These Are the Days to Hold Onto, Cause We Won't Although We'll Want to


These Are the Days to Hold Onto, Cause We Won't Although We'll Want to

I took a walk last night where my mom and I used to go. We used to walk the neighborhood every day, sometimes twice a day if she had more energy to burn off than I knew what to do with.

She reminded me then of an aging movie star in addiction rehab; she never went out without being dressed in white, huge sunglasses, a large sunhat decorated in a jaunty scarf. The only thing missing was the cigarette in the cigarette holder. Early in the summer she would talk the entire time, happily babbling about everything and nothing that made sense. She stopped talking so much by the end of our summer.

Now every time I do dishes, I think of her. The battle we had over washing and drying the dishes was one I could never solve. So the solution came by her not being here at all.

I went to the pet store where she and I used to volunteer. She used to sweep the cat litter, an endless pursuit and perfect for her dementia. Everyone asked for her as soon as I walked in the door. She certainly lives on there.

It does feel weird to be here without her, when in the previous years we closed up the house in Florida and spent the summer with my husband in Ohio. Now I'm here in Ohio for a much briefer trip, and my mom's in a temporary facility in Florida because she can no longer make the trip. Any trip.

It's a little like being in Limbo (Purgatory, Sheol, where the un-baptized babies go), knowing my mom can die at any minute while I'm up here and not by her side, like I've been for over two years.

My husband and I have been planning this time together since March. I've emotionally said good-bye to my mom a bunch of times. With her advanced state of dementia, there is no telling what she thinks any more about me or her life in general. She has round-the-clock care, but it just doesn't include mine.

I am choosing to spent time with the living, while I can.


Like this article? Share on social